Don't Bite the Bridesmaid (3 page)

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, whoops, guess I forgot to mention golf. Cindy had a few more things planned than I thought.” She shifted her weight and looked at her fingernails, as if checking for a flaw in her manicure. “I hope you don’t mind.”

He gritted his teeth at the thought of spending even more time in Alice’s company, with her tempting scent and sparkling smile. He could resist for a week. Only a week. One week of his very long life.

“Sounds good,” he said. Besides, what was the worst that could happen while playing miniature golf?

Mini-golfing, as it turned out, was very dangerous. Alice bent over her club at the ninth hole and examined her route carefully, and Noah did his best to keep his eyes away from her lithe form.

Nearly twenty of the guests had turned out for the mini golf after-lunch game, but they’d divided into groups of four to six, and everyone moved pretty slowly through the course. The only good thing about the whole situation was the fact the course was indoors—this particular one, anyway.

“Fore!” Alice called before taking her swing. She flinched as the bright purple ball bounced off of the windmill under which she’d tried to shoot it.

He grinned when she turned around to complain about the obvious design flaws in the course.

“I’m not entirely sure you can blame the course, dear,” Edna said, and Alice shot her a dramatic glare.

“Just because you obviously paid extra for a magic ball doesn’t mean the course isn’t flawed, Mother.”

Noah chuckled and took his own shot, and then laughed outright at Alice’s cry of outrage as his ball rolled through the windmill and right up to the hole.

“Beginner’s luck,” Alice muttered, her anger obviously feigned.

He’d told Alice the truth. He’d never played miniature golf. Apparently, even after two hundred years, the world still held its new experiences. He wished he could make The Council understand this. Then he wouldn’t be stuck on this ship, trying too hard to keep his desires at bay. He wasn’t accustomed to being new at anything, so he was relieved to find all it required was a healthy dose of coordination and a little luck. Surprisingly, he wasn’t the best of their five-some. Edna Shepard had him by two swings. Apparently, when it came to mini-golf, Alice’s mother had better reflexes than a vampire.

They played through another four holes before one of Alice’s swings ricocheted her ball off a clown’s face to connect with the side of Noah’s head.

He glared at her, rubbing the back of his skull and feigning pain.

“I’m so sorry!”

He couldn’t help the grin that rose to his face at her horrified expression. “You’re going to have to swing harder than that to take me down.”

A tentative smile rose, but her blush remained. “You okay?”

“I’m fine. Here, let me show you how it’s done,” he said.

She quirked an eyebrow at him and lined the ball up again. “Okay.”

“Set your legs a little farther apart, and keep your wrists straight.” He closed the distance between them to help her with her stance and ignored the little jolts of electricity that ran up his fingertips as he touched her softly on her shoulders, then her arms.

“Bend here,” he murmured, touching the small of her back, a slight brush of his skin on her dress. He was close, too close. The smell of her filled his nose and he fought not to lean in and see if her hair was as soft as it looked.

She took in a quick breath. He stepped back.

“Don’t swing like it’s a baseball. Tap it.”

She swung at the ball slowly, and it rolled forward into the hole.

“Yes!” Alice yelled. She bounced up and down a couple of times and then gave him a quick hug before pulling back with a dazzling smile on her face. “Thank you.”

His reply caught in his throat.

She seemed unaware of his discomfort. Turning to her sister, she said, “Next game is all mine.”

Alice performed better through the next few holes. She didn’t break any records, but no balls flew at his head either, so he counted that as a win. Noah went first at the last hole, and managed his first hole-in-one for the night. Alice cheered him on, and he gave her a mock bow.

“I have to make a call,” he said when Alice positioned herself to hit the final hole.

She waved at him and he walked to the entrance of the golf area, handing his club off to the attendant along the way. Glancing around to ensure he was as alone as possible when trapped on a ship with thousands of tourists, he hit Charles’s name on his phone. It rang through to voice mail.

“Call me when you get this. I need an update.” He hit
end
and then tracked down another number on his contact list and dialed it.

“Yeah,” an emotionless voice said.

“What’s happening, Alex?”

“Charles requested an audience. Could be a couple of days. They aren’t happy you left the city,” Alex replied, his tone still calm.

Noah had the sudden urge to reach through the phone and shake the detached man on the other end of the line. Alex was old, older even than Noah, and he didn’t even bother to pretend to feel things anymore. He hadn’t always been that way, but centuries of life would do that to a vampire. And Alex had been old when Noah was made vampire. His lack of humanity was exactly the sort of thing the bonding was supposed to prevent in Noah, but he’d be damned if he’d let The Council decide his fate like that.

“I’m not going through with it.”

Alex snorted, and Noah tensed. That was the closest thing to emotion he’d heard from his friend in far too long.

“Unless they give you a stay, you will go through with it, my friend.”

Noah tapped his fist lightly against the wall, forcing down the urge to really hit something. That was the crux of it, wasn’t it? The Council wasn’t disobeyed, not when it really mattered. And they took bondings very seriously.

A fact Alex knew all too well.

“It’s not so bad,” Alex said.

Now it was Noah’s turn to snort with derision. “You’ve been bonded for five years and haven’t set eyes on your so-called bride since the wedding.”

“Exactly. Like I said, it’s not so bad.”

Noah ran his hand over his hair, not sure what to say, but unable to hang up just yet. Alex was loyal to a fault, and he always did what he needed to in order to help his friends, but it had been a long time since he’d displayed much humor. It was a treat, but held dangerous hope.

“I don’t want to be tied to someone I don’t at least care for. Hell, I don’t want to be tied to any woman. Not like that. Not even for a mere decade or two.”

Long silence filled the line. “It’s…a responsibility,” Alex said finally.

Alex didn’t say what they were both thinking, although the little he said was true enough. It was a responsibility. One that had kept Alex around the last five years. One that would keep him alive—whether he wanted to be or not—for another five. A heavy weight settled on Noah’s chest at the thought of his friend being gone.

Like humans, vampires varied in their appearance and personalities, but nearly all shared a sense of duty and honor to their fellow vampires. It was something ingrained culturally and had been for centuries. And though it was treated as a trait—a sign of the mental fortitude and control required to make it as a vampire—Noah had long suspected even more than mental character was at play. That magic was behind their need to preserve the lives of their fellow vampires.

And if one vampire died, his or her bondmate died as well.

This fact meant bonding was not only used to connect vampires who wished for something deeper than human marriage, but also to give life to older vampires through the psychic connection. The bond allowed younger vampires to gain strength and much-needed control, and gave older ones a chance to fall in love with life again.

“I don’t think—hell, Alex, I know I don’t need a bonding.”

“Because you aren’t yet so tired of this life that you’re suicidal—so the forced bonding would be worthless to you?” Alex asked, bitterness lacing his tone. “That’s what Charles will tell The Council. Two hundred or no, you haven’t hit that place yet where you need a bondmate to tie you to this life. In all likelihood, they’ll grant you a fifty year stay. Then you’ll have a few more decades before they’ll propose this again.”

Noah nodded to himself and then stepped even closer to the wall as a large group of young college-age students—party-goers, not wedding guests, he would bet—passed him on their way to miniature golf.

“How are you doing these days?” Noah asked, then immediately regretted the impulse.

“Just as tired as always, my friend.”

The line clicked and Alex was gone.

Noah shook his head. He’d do anything to help Alex, but decades of trying to pull him out of the shell into which he’d bound himself hadn’t worked. The bonding The Council had forced on Alex hadn’t revived him either. He certainly couldn’t do anything during a five-minute phone call. Frustration burned in his chest. Alex was a good man. A strong warrior. A loyal friend.

He didn’t really believe Alex was suicidal, but he showed all of the signs of a vampire nearing the end of his life. So he’d been bound to a bride, which tied his fate to hers. And like most of his kin, Alex wouldn’t take the life of a young vampire in order to soothe his own pain. So his continued life—for the time being—was guaranteed.

“Hey, there.” Alice still wore her bright smile, but tentativeness shadowed it now. Had something happened while he was on the phone? He glanced behind her but didn’t see anything amiss.

“Is something wrong?”

“No.” She shook her head, then more firmly, “No. Do you want to go relax for a few minutes? We have a little over an hour before dinner.”

“Sounds good.”

He followed her down a hallway and up several flights of stairs until she stopped at a room and used her keycard to open the door.

“Is this your room or mine?” he asked, peering in from the doorway. The suite appeared spacious for a cruise ship room. A large bed equipped with a dizzying bedspread took up most of the room space, with a loveseat and dresser filling the rest of the room. Propped up high was a flat screen television. A small table—nightstand size—was the only other furnishing inside the room. But sliding glass doors led to a small balcony on which he glimpsed a couple of chairs and a table. Alice’s family had spared no expense on the rooms.

Most importantly, heavy curtains were pushed to one side of the door, which would allow for near total darkness during the daytime.

He caught sight of his bags—sitting right next to hers—just as she turned with guilt written all over her face.

“It’s our room,” she said.

She’d expected a reaction from that news, but she didn’t count on the flash of panic on his face that quickly settled into anger.

“It’s our room?” He stepped past her and walked through the space.

“There’s a small pullout in the couch,” she said, waving at the small love seat. Even the nice rooms on the cruise ship weren’t exactly spacious, but they only had to coexist for a week.

“There’s no privacy!”

“It’s plenty private. The bathroom has a door. And the room and bathroom are more than twice the size of a standard cruise ship room, so really, you’re getting more space than you should have expected.” Her mother might not be outlandish in the way she spent her rather large fortune, but she had spared no expense when it came to her daughter’s wedding. The rooms were more than adequate and were a far cry from standard cruise ship fare. “Haven’t you ever been on a cruise before? They don’t really book one to a cabin.”

Besides, what did he think, that she was going to jump him the second he drifted off to sleep? Fat chance. She might have been desperate not to show up alone, but that was it. Getting laid—which would no doubt be quite an experience with her sexy neighbor—wasn’t on the agenda.

He glared at her and she let out a big sigh. “Mom booked this room months ago for me and my “plus-one,” which turns out to be you. How could I have explained at the last minute that my boyfriend might prefer his own room?

“I thought we just had to convince your ex. I didn’t sign on for a sleepover. You didn’t even introduce me as your boyfriend to your mother.”

She looked down at her toes; the pedicurist had done an excellent job.

“Alice?”

“My mom can’t keep a secret. Scratch that—my whole family can’t keep a secret. Honestly, it’s bad enough Cindy knows the truth. And I didn’t introduce you as my boyfriend because I figured she’d draw her own conclusions and I wouldn’t have to lie to her face.” She met his gaze and he took a deep breath.

“There’s only one bed!”

“The couch—”

“Isn’t that big. I don’t know what you had in mind, but I only agreed to come because I needed to get out of town.” He crossed his arms and glared at her.

“I’m not going to jump you.” She threw her hands up in frustration, trying to suppress the urge to run away from the room, from the man in front of her, from her embarrassment.

“Still seems weird to me.”

“You flatter yourself,” she snapped.

He looked up, and the shock on his face almost made the whole ordeal worth it. Almost. What? Did he think he was irresistible? She almost laughed at his surprise, but that would hardly prompt him to help her, so she bit her lip and suppressed the urge.

“Well, what I am supposed to think? You invited me on this cruise. You want me to play your boyfriend.”

“You’re supposed to think that I was being honest with you,” she said, amusement suddenly stifled under a wave of anger. “You think I need to trick men into my bed or something?”

“I didn’t say—”

“I’m going to get a breath of fresh air.” The words rushed out of her, and she turned and headed for the door.

Safely out of the suite, she wandered the halls. Chest tight, she refused to allow herself to sink into the misery filling her. Where had this gone wrong? She wasn’t supposed to feel more miserable. Noah’s presence should have bolstered her confidence, not shattered it.

Did he think so little of her? It wasn’t like she couldn’t get a date—she could. She just chose not to. And she had her reasons. Reasons that would probably make him think her a prize idiot. Not that it mattered. She didn’t care what Noah thought of her. But she wasn’t about to confide in him. They weren’t friends. They were acquaintances who both happened to benefit from the same thing—being on this cruise together.